Wild at Heart
by lyssalightwing
Summary: Grace Montgomery, a girl who was given an impossible destiny, has come to Beacon Hills after being kicked out of her old school. Strange things quickly begin to happen, and the Slayer will find her way into the thick of it. She will stand beside her friends to face the worst evils: murderous werewolves, crazy hunters, wacky hijinks, huge crushes and worst of all - chemistry class.
1. Murder Most Foul

**I don't own Teen Wolf and I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer, I just enjoy them both. Don't be expecting to see any Buffy characters; this is the life of an entirely different Slayer. I hope you like it, please R&R, that would be awesome! And it would let me know if you want me to continue! Enjoy!**

* * *

It was oddly cold in California for it only being September. Grace was reluctant to get out from under the covers in the morning with the chilly dawn light glaring in from her bedroom window, though that might have had less to do with the chill and more to do with the fact that it was her first day at a new high school and she _wasn't _looking forwards to it. She'd been hoping her dad would have gone for the homeschool idea – since it wasn't just for crazy religious people anymore – but no. Today was her first day at Beacon Hills.

There was a knock at her door, which sent her over the edge into wakefulness.

"Gracie, time to get up. You don't want to be late." Her dad stuck his head in the doorway, rolling his eyes as his daughter burrowed further into the blankets until all you could see was the top of her blonde head.

"Go away, daddy. It's still summer." She said, groaning and protesting loudly as he walked into the room and tugged away the comforter.

"Nope, no. I called the school and you _definitely_ start today. They insisted. They're all waiting for your big debut. _And _if you don't get up, Annabelle and Michael are going to eat all the pancakes."

Grace cracked open one gray eye and looked at her father.

"Strawberry pancakes?"

"With syrup and powdered sugar."

The teenager grinned and sat up, rubbing her eyes.

"Now you're speaking my language. I'll be down in a few." Jason Montgomery smiled and ruffled his daughter's hair affectionately and left.

Grace wiggled her toes in the plush carpet before pulling herself out of bed, shivering slightly. She crossed the room, dodging boxes, and began to dig through her suitcases, looking for clothes. The Montgomerys had just moved in a couple nights ago, after her father had received a job offer in the town and Grace had been asked to not return to her previous high school due to 'delinquent behavior'. They'd had to move rather abruptly, seeing as Beacon Hills High-school had been the only place within the state that had been willing to take her in. It wasn't really her fault, Grace maintained.

Her last high school had had a serious undead problem. She had just been doing her civic duty. Who knew you could get kicked out for mistaking your English teacher for a vampire and cracking them over the head?

Tugging on a tartan top, jeans, a studded leather bracelet and her grandmother's ring, followed by her trusty curb stomping combat boots, Grace plowed down the stairs. She tossed her leather jacket over her shoulder and an oatmeal colored scarf around her neck along with a small gold necklace. In her hand was her schoolbag, which had all the useful supplies: hairbrush, lipstick, school books and notebooks, pens and pencils, a stake, and her headphones. Typical stuff.

She swung into the kitchen, dodging her little brother as he plowed around the corner.

"Watch it, shrimp!"

"Get out of the way, you old hag!" Michael stuck his tongue out at her as he busted by, darting into the living room to watch cartoons.

"Hey, hey, hey! Knock it off, you two!" Her dad said, waving a spatula at his offspring. Grace grabbed a plate and a fork and dug in, getting syrup all over her fingers. Her father put down a cup of orange juice in front of her, which she wolfed down. Their big golden retriever, Lucky (who had been named by Annabelle) sat by Grace's stool, waiting for any scraps. His tail wagged back and forth, big brown eyes just begging for her to drop her pancakes on the ground. Unfortunately, the dog had little luck. Ironically enough.

"Do you want me to give you a ride, kiddo?"

Grace shook her head, hopping up from her seat and grabbing her book bag.  
"No, I'll just catch the bus, dad. Gotta deal with the teaming masses sooner or later." Her father ruffled her hair again.

"That's my girl. Have a good day at school. Give me a call if you want me to pick you up."

Grace nodded, stopping just for a moment on the way out to swing Annabelle around in her arms and pecking her on the nose.

"Gracie, you'll be back soon?" The little girl asked, patting her older sister's cheeks. Annabelle was barely 7, but much more articulate and sweeter than most her age. Both Annabelle and Michael had their mother's red hair and brown eyes; Grace looked much more like her father with her dirty blonde locks and gray eyes.

"I promise, Annie." She smiled, waved goodbye to her father, then pushed open the door and stepped out into the sunshine. It was a short walk to the nearest bus stop, serenaded by Black Flag which boomed from her headphones, and it was one that Grace didn't mind in the least. She liked being outdoors, always hating to feel cooped up. She was a girl with a lot of energy and when she wasn't doing her job – which was to say her preordained destiny of hunting down vampires and demons and other baddies – she spent most of her time doing something physical.

Grace hadn't had a chance to get a lay of the town yet. She hadn't seen the graveyard, she didn't know the local haunts, she hadn't even read the obits yet to see about any recent deaths that might give her a clue to the inner workings of the leafy little hamlet her family had moved to. Maybe there _weren't _any vampires. Highly doubtful, but maybe. Probably not many, since in a town this size that many people going missing would raise some eyebrows. From watch she had seen of Beacon Hills from driving in and going to that Chinese place down the road for takeout last night, this place probably didn't see too much bad. Maybe she'd get to end out her high-school career with no one dying or being incredibly maimed or being kicked out again.

"Power of positive thinking, Grace." She muttered to herself as the bright yellow school bus pulled up. She hopped on, ignoring people staring at her, and found a seat to herself.

It was a fairly uneventful bus ride – no one tried to sit with her, probably all confounded by the new girl. In a town this size, they probably didn't get a lot of new people. Grace paid little mind to the looking and whispering, wrapped up in her own worries about classes and friend and boys and how many apocalypses she was going to have to avert before Christmas break.

Highway to Hell began to play as the bus pulled into the parking lot, which Grace could appreciate. She stood, straightened her jacket and scarf and lifted her chin.

'_Just imagine an explosion behind you.' _ With that thought in mind, Grace stomped out, slightly gratified as people parted to let her through, except for one girl with strawberry blonde hair that completely ignored her as Grace walked by. Her strut was fairly impressive, Grace had to admit, and she drew plenty of interested eyes.

'_I think I've just met the popular crowd.' _The girl looked it, she was perfect – hair, outfit, makeup. Even her facial expression of slightly chilly disinterest was perf. But Grace didn't move, keeping her pace steady as the girl walked by, quirking her eyebrow at Grace for just a moment of study before moving along. Grace felt like she had been sized up rather quickly. As the blonde made her way inside, she wondered what queen bee thought of her. It wouldn't be too bad to try and be on good terms with the popular kids in this school. It certainly made your high school career easier.

The inside of Beacon Hills was pretty much like her other high school. Linoleum tiling, beige walls, artsy posters next to cautionary ones, lots of fliers. They even had a disaffected office woman that told her to sit and wait for the principal. She still needed her schedule and to have a quick chat with him about her record. He was probably going to caution her against any more bad behavior, and you didn't need to tell her twice. She really didn't want to get kicked out and she couldn't handle the look on her father's face if she was. Her dad had it hard raising three kids after her mother skipped out after Annabelle was born – Grace didn't want to make it that much harder for him.

Lost in her own thoughts, Grace barely noticed a brunette girl sit down next to her. She was slender and pretty, with a strong jaw and high cheekbones and perfect wavy hair. Grace lowered her headphones and leaned in slightly, her voice a conspiratorial whisper.

"So what are you in for?"

The girl jumped slightly, looking up from her bag. A slightly startled smile appeared on her mouth.

"Oh, no. I'm just new. I'm Allison." She stuck her hand out, which Grace took and shook after extricating her own from her jacket pocket.

"Grace. And me too. It's my first day." Allison's shoulders relaxed slightly.

"Really? I thought I was going to be the only new person."

"Nope, looks like we're in this sinking ship together."

Allison laughed a little at that.

"I thought I was going to high school, not a ship." She said. Grace just shrugged, grinning a little bit, before sticking her hand out again.

"Well how about you look after me and I look after you and maybe we'll make it to port before our poor vessel bites it?" Allison smiled and grabbed her hand, shaking it firmly.

"Deal." Grace smiled and stuck her hand back in her pocket.

"So what brings you here?"

"My family moves around a lot because of my dad's job. But we're here to stay this time, I guess. What about you?" Allison asked, cocking her head to the side. Grace knocked the heels of her combat boots together and tucked her hair behind her ear.

"My dad got a job offer here, which came in handy since Beacon Hills was the closest school in California that would willingly take in a 'delinquent' and 'troublemaker.'" Grace said, making air quotes with her fingers.

Allison lifted an eyebrow inquisitively.

"Troublemaker?"

"Oh you know, usual stuff. Fighting."

Allison's eyebrow lifted a little higher, her eyes sweeping over Grace in a way that made her laugh.

"Yeah, yeah. I know. I don't look like much but I've got a mean right hook. But I swear, I've gone straight. Done the PA meetings and everything."

"PA?"

"Punchers Anonymous. I swear I half expect to introduce myself and have everyone go 'Hi Grace.'"

Allison laughed, her pretty face breaking into a sunny smile. Grace smiled too, and hoped she'd be able to make a friend here. Allison seemed really nice, and Grace really _did _need to spend more time with the living. As far as she could tell, Allison was just a normal girl, not some vampire or crazy hell beast. That boded well.

"So what's your dad's job?" Grace said, digging a cookie out from her bookbag. Pretty soon the girls were chatting over oatmeal raisin.

Allison fiddled with her back pack before pulling her legs up into the chair and tugging on a lock of her hair thoughtfully.

"He's in sales. He doesn't say much about it. We stayed in San Francisco for awhile, a year and a half, which is the longest we've stayed in one place." Grace whistled.

"Wow, sounds exciting."

Allison shrugged.  
"I guess. I'm kinda sick of being the new girl all the time. You always feel so lost."

Grace pushed her on the shoulder a little bit.

"Hey don't worry so much. You know me and I know you, so that's a start." Allison shot her a grateful look.

"How are you so calm about this? Isn't it stressful?" She asked, tipping her head against the chair.

"I'm just unflappable that way. Seriously, I have bigger things to worry about than the rigors of high school?"

Allison nibbled on the cookie.

"Oh yeah? Like what?"

"Oh you know. How many demons I've got to kill this year, how many apocalypse cults I'll have to stop, if I'll find a boyfriend. You know. Girly stuff." The girls laughed, and soon the conversation turned to the exchange of phone numbers and who their favorite celebrity was. Grace preferred Viggo Mortensen, while Allison enjoyed the charms of Johnny Depp.

"I see you two are making friends." The girls looked up as the principal walked out. He was a middle aged man with glasses and a beard and a friendly enough smile.

"Ms. Argent, I have someone here who can take you to your first class. If you have any questions, please don't hesitate to ask." He handed her a schedule as another man came out. Allison grabbed her bag and looked at Grace with a tentative smile.

"I'll see you around?"

Grace bobbed her head.

"You bet. I'll save us a whole table at lunch where people may see us and bask in our glory."

Allison laughed with the vice principal and left and Grace was herded into the principal's office, where she was (as she expected) cautioned against any more delinquent activity. She did her best to assure the principal that she was on the straight and narrow path now and he seemed pretty satisfied with that.

"Look, I know I made some bad choices, but I'm straight now, I swear."

The principal raised his eyebrow at her.

"Well, as long as I don't see you in here again, Ms. Montgomery."

As they stood and shook hands, the bell rung.

"Here's your schedule, Ms. Montgomery. I hope I don't have to see you in here again." Grace managed her best innocent smile.

"Don't worry, sir. I'll do my best."

He cracked a smile.  
"See that you do. Now go on, you'll be late for class on your first day."

Grace darted out of the office, clutching her schedule and looking it over as she dodged around students. She had History next, and she had no idea where the classroom was.

As she turned a corner, someone slammed in to her, causing the contents of her bag to go spilling across the hall.

"Oh hey wow, I'm sorry."

As Grace knelt to pick her things up, a boy leaned down with her, gathering up her books as quickly as he could before students stomped on them. Grace looked at him under her lashes. He was cute, with short brown hair and fairly wide brown eyes. He was wearing a Captain America tee shirt and she thought he had a nice nose.

"It's no problem. Thanks for the help." He glanced up and nodded, then double took and coughed a little. His mouth danced over a few vocal sounds for a couple seconds.

"You're new here, right?"

Grace nodded, grabbing her bag and standing.

"Brand new. You wouldn't mind telling me how to get to the History room, would you? This map is absolutely no help."

"Oh, yeah, sure. " He spun to stand next to her shoulder, using his finger as a guide.

"You just go down and take a left and it'll be on the right."

She smiled at him warmly and a slow answering smile spread across his face. The bell rung, causing Grace to stop admiring his brown eyes and dart towards her classroom.

"Thanks! See you later!" She gave him a sunny smile before walking down the hall.

As Grace hurried into the History room and took a seat, she reflected. She was hoping she could make a friendship with Allison, and with that drive by adorableness that just occurred, maybe it wouldn't be such a bad year after all.

* * *

History passed by pretty quickly. They really only went over the syllabus, though Grace was pretty excited for the Ancient History studies this semester.

After the class let out, she made her way to the lunchroom, but didn't find Allison anywhere. As she found a table, she dropped the girl a quick text.

'_Hey, I'm in the lunchroom. Where are you at?' _Grace began to munch on her apple.

'_I left my lunch at home, so my mom came to drop it off and eat with me. I'll see you in French class?'_

'_Absolument, mon cher.' _A muscle that Grace hadn't realized had coiled in her stomach relaxed. She'd been a little worried about Allison. Who knew what lurked in the hallowed halls of Beacon Hills High? Hopefully nothing. She really hoped she wasn't going to have to chase some sort of demon through the halls.

Now a little more relaxed, she sat back and considered her game plan for tonight. Her bedroom window looked pretty easy to sneak out of. She'd check the obits when she got home to see if there was anything suspicious before hitting the streets and checking out the local boneyards. The morgue was worth a shot too, if she could get in without being noticed. After hours it would probably be pretty empty. And the funeral home was always an option. No one there at night other than the Slayer and her vampy prey.

So lost in her thoughts, she didn't notice the boy until he cleared his throat. She jumped and nearly choked on her apple.

"Shit, sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. I'm um- I'm the guy that knocked you over before?"

Grace raised her eyebrow at him. He was positively brimming with energy. He was tapping his fingers nervously on his jeans and bouncing up and down a little.

"Well, you didn't knock me over hard enough to give amnesia, so I remember."

He chuckled a little awkwardly and then begun digging in his backpack.

"I just wanted to return this to you. You dropped it before." From his bag he withdrew her recently whittled stake. Her heart lurched.

"Oh! Oh. That's from my dad. He's big into the self defense…thing," she finished lamely. The boy raised his eyebrow.

"So he gave you a stake?" Grace huffed and rolled her eyes, snatching up the stake and stuffing it away.

"Hey, I don't question _your _dad's crazy tactics, do I?"

He laughed, rubbing the back of his head before sticking his hand out to her.

"I'm Stiles. Sorry for knocking you over before. My bad."

Grace smiled and scooted a chair out with the toe of her combat boot.

"No problem. Do you…want to sit?"

Stiles blinked, as if not quite understanding that a pretty girl invited him to lunch for a minute before bobbing his head.

"Oh yeah sure. Cool. Mind if my friend comes over?"

Grace shrugged noncommittally, moving over to make room for another boy with floppy black hair and big brown eyes. He was pretty cute in the face. He looked a little hesitant, but he smiled at her.

"Hey, I'm Scott. You're new, right?"

Grace bit off another chunk of her apple.

"That me, Grace Montgomery, professional new girl. Well, me and Allison."

Scott looked up from a portion of his lunch that could have either been kale or string cheese and latched onto the name with surprising intensity.

"You know Allison?"  
Grace raised her eyebrow and glanced between the two of them. Stiles looked both parts mildly annoyed and amused. Scott just looked enraptured.

"Well I don't know her know her – I haven't known her long and I don't know her intimately since I'm not a lesbian, though I can't speak for her – but yeah. I know her."

Scott looked like he was trying to decipher her speech. Stiles just looked like he was trying to keep from laughing at his confused friend.

"Yeah, I met her."

Scott let out a whoosh of breath and smiled. "Oh."

Grace smiled knowingly, her lips parting around the apple.

"Got a crush, huh?"

Scott coughed in surprise, sending part of a chewed pea from his lunch across the table. Stiles wrinkled his nose. Grace just laughed.

"Dude, gross."

* * *

She had French class with Allison, who had glided into the classroom a few minutes later with a happy smile on her face. Grace had note-questioned her mercilessly until she got the story – apparently there was some adorable boy with messy black hair and big eyes that had passed her a pen in class, somehow knowing she hadn't had one. It looked like this year was shaping up to be good for both of them. After the class ended, Grace followed her to her locker.

"His name's Scott."

Allison looked over at her from the dial on her locker.

"How did you find out?" She asked, looking a little nervous.

Grace bumped her in the shoulder, smiling mischievously.

"I ate lunch with him and his friend Stiles. They're both total cuties and Scott definitely thinks you're the bee's knees."

Allison rolled her eyes and blushed as she opened her locker. The blushing soon turned to her giggling and bouncing on the hills of her feet.

"Do you really think he likes me?"

"Oh, I know so, gorgeous. And why wouldn't he? I mean the following in the most heterosexual way possible: hubba hubba." She made the shape of an hourglass in the air with her hands. Allison laughed and stowed her books away in the locker.

Grace leaned against the metal and looked around, propping one foot against the lower metal door. Her eyes met Scott's across the hall, and unless he was sending Grace puppy eyes, which she seriously doubted, he was totally checking out Allison.

Grace leaned in and whispered.

"Look who it is. Maybe you should go return that pen." She waggled her eyebrows suggestively. Allison only rolled hers, though she smiled and bit her lip. Allison seemed to be gearing herself up to go over, but she was halted in the form of the sudden appearance of the strawberry blonde from this morning. Her green eyes swept over Allison's ensemble in an appraising way.

"That jacket is killer. Where'd you get it?"

"My mom was a buyer for a boutique back in San Francisco." Allison looked a little like a deer in headlights.

A smile spread across the face of the strawberry blonde.

"And you are my new best friend. Lydia Martin." She stuck her hand out, which Allison took tentatively and shook. A split second later, Lydia's eyes were on Grace. A simple rising of her brow asked a question.

"Grace Montgomery. We're both new." Lydia received a firm handshake from the blonde. Grace was also appraised rather rapidly, and she must have passed for Lydia reached out and lifted Grace's hand to eye level, admiring the shiny golden ring on her pointer finger shaped like a snake.

"Oh, this is pretty." She turned Grace's hand around to let the light bounce off the snake's little red eyes.

"Thanks, it was my grandmother's."

"Hmm." Lydia withdrew her hands and looked at the two girls. She opened her mouth to speak, but there were suddenly hands on Lydia's waist and a sudden mashing of the lips from some guy with expensive cologne and stylized hair. Grace raised her eyebrow and looked at Allison, who shrunk into the lockers, trying to move away from the overly aggressive PDA. Grace cleared her throat. There was a sound like an octopus un-suctioning itself from something as they parted.

"This is Jackson," Lydia said, fluffing her hair and correcting her lipstick with a finger. She leaned into the boy as if marking her territory, though Grace was certainly not interested. He wasn't her type.

"Your boyfriend?" Grace asked, her eyebrow lifting more.

"Mmm. There's a party this weekend. You two should come. It'll be a blast." Lydia said, smiling.

Grace shrugged. "I'm in. What about you, Allison?"

The brunette looked between the three of them, considering.

"A party?" She asked, sounding a little nervous.

"Yeah," Jackson drawled out. "This Friday."

"Oh, well Friday is family night so I can't go, but thanks for the offer." Allison said, looking more nervous by the second. Grace had a distinct sense she was lying, though she couldn't blame her. Lydia and Jackson seemed like a tough pair to deal with if you didn't have a give-um-hell attitude.

Jackson's eyes widened a little bit."You sure? Everyone's going after the scrimmage." Allison blinked and tipped her head.

"You mean like football?" She asked.

Jackson let out a derisive laugh and Grace decided right then that she didn't like him.

"Football's a joke at Beacon," he said with a superior smile on his smug face. "The sport here's Lacrosse. We've won the state championship for the past three years."

"Thanks to a certain team captain." Lydia said, messing his hair and smiling with pride. He wiggled his head out from under her hand.

"We have practice in a few minutes. You should come see for yourself."

Allison bit her lip, looking for an out.

"Well I need to-"

"Great!" Lydia said, grabbing the girl by the hand and cutting her off. "You're coming. You too, Grace?" She asked, looking at her inquisitively. Allison looked at her, pleading with her big brown eyes. Grace couldn't blame her. These two seemed like a formidable pair, and while they didn't bother her in the least, Allison looked a little overwhelmed.

"Yeah, sure. I could do with some serious hot lacrosse boy gazing."

Lydia grinned, and linked her arm with Grace's, despite that Grace nearly towered over her.

"You read my mind."

"It's one of my many talents."

As they left, Grace looked behind them and saw Scott looking after them. She raised her hand and winked, causing him to start suddenly and wave, just a little awkwardly. His smile was warm and genuine. She could see why Allison liked him so much.

* * *

Jackson left on their way to the field, leaving Allison, Grace, and Lydia to find a place on the bleachers. Grace didn't mind the cold much, but Allison was shivering a little bit. Lydia looked perfectly happy in her black pea coat.

"Didn't expect the weather here, huh?" Grace asked, unzipping her leather jacket and tossing it carelessly around Allison's shoulders.

"No, it's warmer in San Francisco. And what about you? Aren't you cold?" Allison looked ready to give it back, even though she pressed her face into the black material. Grace waved her hand carelessly through the air, not really even feeling the chill anymore.

"Nah, I'm fine. Once you get frostbite, you start to feel warm again." She managed to worm a smile out of Allison before the girls turned to watch the practice.

As Scott uneasily made his way into the goal, Grace bumped Allison.

"Look, there he is again. It's meant to be."

Allison just rolled her eyes and flushed.

All the players took their places on the field, and the whistle was blown. Much to her surprise, Scott clutched his head in pain, almost tumbling to his knees. Allison started in her spot on the bleachers.

"Do you think he's okay?" A few moments later, one of the boys came forward, swinging their netted stick and pegging Scott right in the face with a ball, knocking him over. Allison bit her lip, though Grace was more concerned about something else. She furrowed her eyebrows, looking from the whistle all the way across the field and back to Scott. There was no way he could be so drastically affected by something like that, unless his hearing was superhuman.

'_That's weird.' _

Soon enough, the boy was back on his feet, catching every ball as if it was the most effortless thing in the world. For someone who has just exuded such clumsiness, the transformation was pretty remarkable. Grace didn't know what to make of it. Maybe he was just good and that first boy had just got a lucky shot.

About halfway through the goalie practice, Grace excused herself from the girls and made her way down to just behind the bench, where Stiles was emphatically cheering his friend on, looking more and more excited by the minute.

"Scott's pretty good, huh?" She said, causing him to almost fall out of his seat in surprise.

"Whoa, hey, wow, hi. Could you not do that?" He said, spinning halfway to look at her. Grace grinned.

"Sorry, I'm just good at being quiet. I freak my dad out all the time. But Scott. He's really good. How come he's not on the team yet?"

Stiles looked back at the practice, his cheering quieted for the moment as he considered her question.

"Huh. Good point."

As Jackson stepped up, running towards Scott with ball in his net, the air seemed charged. Time slowed for just a second, before the shot was made and effortlessly caught. Grace had to admit she was a little excited too and couldn't help but join in the cheering and clapping. Stiles seemed ecstatic, leaping out of his seat.

Another hour and practice was over. Grace made her way out to the parking lot with Allison, shrugging her leather jacket back on as they walked down the steps.  
"So, cute, athletic, and just a little bit dorky. Sounds perfect. Maybe you should ask him to the party."

Allison looked up from getting out her keys, quirking her eyebrow with a smile.

"You caught that about family night, huh?" she said, having the grace to look a little sheepish. Grace just smiled.

"I can't blame you. Those two seem like quite the pair to be around. But it probably wouldn't be so bad with a cute floppy haired date."

Allison laughed.  
"I'll think about it. Do you need a ride? I don't mind." Grace tipped her head.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, get in. Do you mind if we swing by somewhere? I could really use a smoothie."

Grace buckled herself in and chuckled, sending her new friend a look.

"Wait, weren't you just freezing?"

* * *

As Allison pulled into Grace's driveway, the blonde pulled her lips away from orange mango and grinned.

"Thanks for the ride. I'll see you in school tomorrow?" Allison bobbed her head and smiled back.

"Yeah, I'll see you around."

A hop, skip, and jump delivered her to her front door, which she unlocked and went inside. All was quiet and calm in the house, which meant Michael and Annabelle were probably at afterschool care and dad was at work. As Grace closed the door, Lucky came bounding out of the living room where he had probably been sleeping on the couch and rubbed his face against her leg.

"Hey boy, how you doing?" He barked and ran around her legs before plowing into the kitchen. Grace fed him and scratched him behind the ear before noticing a slip of yellow paper taped to the fridge.

'_Grace, please go down to the store and get some groceries for tonight's dinner, and pick up your brother and sister at 6:30. I'll be working late tonight. Also, if you could go to the veterinarian down the street and pick up Lucky's meds, that would be great. The form is on the table. Thanks! -Dad '_

Grace crumpled the note up and threw it in the trashcan before heading out. Grocery shopping didn't take long. She stopped in at the house to drop them off before leaving again, enjoying the crisp air of the outdoors. Her family had really moved to a nice area. There were lots of woods and plenty of playgrounds for her siblings and despite the chilly weather she thought she could really learn to like it here.

Using the GPS on her phone, Grace found her way to the vet's office. The little bell above the door heralded her arrival. Everything in here was clean and neat and she could faintly hear the sound of barking dogs. A couple minutes later, a black man with a clean shaven head and a calm smile walked out, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Hello, can I help you?"

"Uh, yeah. I'm here to pick up some medicine for my dog. He's having some itching problems. I've got the form." Grace raised it in the air before sliding it across the counter. The man took it, glanced over it, and then turned behind him to the large cabinets.

"Montgomery? Your family moved in recently to the neighborhood, correct?"

Grace looked up from where she was leaning, her eyes narrowing a little bit.

"Yeah. Just a couple days ago." She crossed her arms, her stance changing as her right foot slid back behind her left ever so slightly. The man turned back around, still smiling and holding a small bottle of pills.

"Welcome to the neighborhood." He placed the pills on the counter, sticking his hand out to shake as Grace drew near. She took it, her apprehension clearing up in the wake of his easy smile.

"Dr. Deaton."

"Grace." She gave him a nice, firm handshake before pocketing the pills. As she turned to leave the shop, his voice followed her out.

"Ms. Montgomery, I'd recommend reading the newspaper. You wouldn't want to be behind on today's news." Grace whirled back around, but he had already stepped into the back.

On her way to the elementary school, Grace did grab a paper from a stand, quickly skimming it as she walked. Deaton hadn't been lying – a gruesome murder of some young girl in the area in a town that didn't see carnage? It sounded like her kind of thing. At the very least, she thought that she should check it out. Maybe if she could get into the morgue or get in good with someone who knew something about the police force, she might be able to rustle up some information.

* * *

The rest of the night was uneventful. Grace picked her siblings up from afterschool and made them dinner, did what little homework she had, and finished unpacking. Her father came home around 7:30, which relieved her of her babysitting duty. Her father put the kids away and they sat around for awhile, watching television together. Around 9, Grace let out a yawn.

"I'm gonna go to bed now, dad."

Her father looked up from his whiskey and nodded.

"Yeah kid. You should get an early night." Grace smiled and kissed his cheek, going upstairs and throwing herself into the bed after shutting off all the lights and changing into a tank top and panties. Eventually, she heard her father tromp up the stairs and shut his door.

Grace lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling. She had managed to stick all the stars up there, so they glowed in fairly accurate representations of constellations.

This town was definitely weird. The murder, Scott's weird hearing thing, Dr. Deaton's odd remark. Maybe he knew what she was. That would be odd information for a veterinarian. She groaned and rolled over, pulling the covers up to her chin. She exhaled slowly and closed her eyes.

"Well, at least it won't be boring."


	2. Party on, dudes

**Hey there! Thanks for all the reads, favorites, and thanks countryfan4life and guest for the reviews! They are super appreciated and it really makes me want to continue writing. I hope you all enjoy! Let me know what you think!**

**There is mild drug use and drinking in this chapter, just so everyone knows. Sorry if you're offended by it, but hey, teenagers smoke pot and drink sometimes!**

**Teen Wolf and Buffy ain't mine, I just love um.**

* * *

Grace probably would not have woken up on time to get to school on Friday if not for the sudden ringing of her phone. She lay sleeping, perfectly content, dreaming of Viggo Mortensen feeding her strawberries and killing orcs, when she was quite abruptly awoken by a loud rousing chorus of:

'_SOMETIMES IT'S HARD TO FIND THE WORDS TO SAY, I'LL GO AHEAD AND SAY THEM ANYWAY.'_

"Shit, shit, shutup!" Grace grumbled and scrambled for her phone, still caught watching the upswing of Aragorn's elven crafted sword.

'_FORGET YOUR BALLS AND GROW A PAIR OF TI-'_

Groaning, Grace answered the phone with a yawn.

"H-h-hello?"

"_Did I wake you up? I'm sorry."_ A quick check to the caller id told her it was Allison. Grace rolled out of bed and to her feet, opening the curtain. Sunlight poured into the room, causing her to wince.

"No, no. It's not like Viggo Mortensen had Anduril in an orc's skull or anything."

"_What?"_

Grace smiled at the confusion in her voice and started to gather her clothes together.

"Nothing. What's up, pretty lady?"

"_I'm going to the party!"_ There was a glow of excitement in Allison's voice. Grace raised her eyebrow.

"Oh really? What made you change your mind?"

"_Well, I ran into Scott-"_

Grace jumped up, punching her fist into the air triumphantly.

"Hah! I knew it! Get it girl!" Allison laughed on the other line.

"_I was driving in the rain last night and I hit a dog. It came out of nowhere and I didn't have time to stop. I took it to the vet and Scott was there. He works there. I was totally freaking out and he calmed me down. It was really sweet. Before I left he asked me to the party."'_

Grace wiggled out of her pajamas and threw some clothes on the bed.

"Wow, day two and you already have a date. How am I supposed to keep up?" She could hear Allison giggle on the other line.

"_You could invite his friend."_

Grace furrowed her brow.

"Stilinski? Yeah, I guess I could do that. He's pretty adorable."

"_Got a crush?"_

"Noooo, I just appreciate a total awkward cutie. I've got to get ready. I'll see you soon?"

"_Yeah, I'll see you at school!"_

Grace hung up and quickly donned her outfit for the day – red skinny jeans, a Star Wars jumper, her usual combat boots and leather jacket. In her bag was shoved the essentials – weapons and makeup and a laptop. She pushed her hair into a quick high pony tail before taking the stairs down two at a time. Breakfast was quickly consumed, coffee was bottled in a to-go cup, siblings were played with and teased and a dog was petted before she left, making her way down the street to the bus stop.

* * *

Grace quickly hopped off the bus, her ponytail swinging about as she looked around for Stiles. She thought he was cute and yesterday at lunch they had talked about The Avengers so they'd probably have something to talk about at the party. Allison was shaping up to be a good friend, but a girl needed guy friends too! And, if Allison and Scott ended up becoming an item she wanted to get to know him and his friends.

She was unsuccessful in her search, but once she found her way into the Chemistry room, she saw the two of them sitting together and chatting about something. Their voices were low and they looked like they were conspiring, but as Grace drew near her own heightened senses picked up the end of the conversation.

"…Derek Hale did it?"

"Maybe Derek Hale did what?" Grace dropped her back on their table and pulled up a chair. Both of them jumped and Stiles looked like he was trying to swallow a frog.

"Derek who?" There was a slight nervous pitch to Stiles' voice. Scott just did his best to try and look innocent and failed.

Grace rolled her eyes and pulled out a bar of chocolate from her bag, cracking off a bit and popping it into her mouth.

"How're you? How's Allison?" Scott asked, interjecting into the conversation. Grace grinned at him.

"Allison's on Cloud Nine. Very smooth with handling the dog, Scott."

The boy beamed at her, dipping his head a little.

"She's really great." He had a mildly concussed happy puppy dog face on and Grace's smile softened. He really did seem to like her. It seemed like Scott and Allison were all set. Now she just had to handle the other boy.

"Yeah. She is. Hey, Stilinski."

Stiles' head popped up. He looked like he had been trying to intimately engage with his chemistry book, either out of a desire to escape the Allison conversation, or the body/Derek Hale conversation. She wasn't sure which.

"Are you going to the party tonight?"

He shook his head.

"Eh, no, that party is for _'everybody who isn't a nobody.'_ Plus I didn't get an invite, so."

"Wanna go with me?"

Stiles' mouth gaped open like a fish. He looked around the vicinity to make sure she wasn't talking to anyone else before fixing the blonde with an askance look like he couldn't believe some pretty girl had just invited him to a party. Scott tried to stifle his laughter behind his fist but failed miserably. Stiles shot him a withering glare before looking back at the blonde, still trying to comprehend what she had just asked.

"With...you?"

"Yeah? I think you're cute and you know about comic books and Star Wars so we'll have something to talk about. "Stiles' looked even more concussed than Scott had when he was talking about Allison, his jaw flapping in an attempt to form words. Scott let out a short burst of laughter, looking from his best friend to Grace as if he had just caught the end of an amusing comedy show.

Mr. Harris walked into the room, peering at the attending students with displeasure. Grace swiveled around in the chair, barely able to keep from grinning. Stiles looked concussed and confused.

"Everyone, please open your Chemistry books to page 394. Mr. Stilinski, unless you want to catch flies, close your mouth and stop gaping at the new girl."

Stiles snapped his mouth closed amidst quiet giggles from the rest of the class. As class started, Grace could hear some frantic whispering from the boys behind her but she didn't turn around to inspect.

"_Cute. Dude did she say cute?"_

"_Yeah, yeah dude I think she did."_

"_Cute?"_

Grace stifled her laugh with her hand, managing to keep herself quiet enough to not draw Mr. Harris' attention.

The class was silent for a little while, silent under the yolk of Mr. Harris' acidic glare. He wrote a few things on the board in bright red Expo before turning around to address the students.

"Now, we're going to start our first project for the year. I expect all of you choose an experiment you can do at home. Write me a paper on it and present it to the class. Impress me, if you think that you can muster enough brain power to do so." Mr. Harris smiled smugly. Grace rolled her eyes.

"You will be doing this project in pairs-" There was a murmur as people began to look around at each other, seeking a partner. Mr. Harris chuckled.

"Oh no. You'll be picking them randomly." There was a collective groan from the student body as he looked around the room. He zeroed in on Grace and motioned to her.

"Ms. Montgomery, why don't you start?" He shook a small metal tin at her full of pieces of paper. She sighed and walked over to the desk before sticking her hand in and pulling out a small slip.

"Ag?" Her brow furrowed at Mr. Harris. He smiled again.

"Match it with the name of your element and you'll have your partner." Everyone grumbled – Mr. Harris even managed to take the whimsy out of a random drawing.

Grace returned to her seat and spun around as part of the room started filing up.

"If either of you get silver you're with me." Scott and Stiles nodded, looking nervous.

"What if I get one of those abbreviations? I'm bad at Chemistry." Scott said, staring at the metal bin as if it was filled with scorpions. Stiles bobbed his head in agreement. Grace smiled.

"Just tell me and I'll let you know. I think I've memorized most of the Periodic Table."

Stiles wrinkled his brow.

"Why?" He asked. Grace shrugged and tugged on a piece of her hair.

"I usually like Chemistry. Mein Fuhrer is ruining it, though." Stiles chuckled and stood up to follow his friend to the front. Scott plucked out a piece of paper and frowned. He walked back and held it up to Grace.

"Cu?" He looked desperate. Grace looked up from her paper where she was doodling Dracula.

"Copper."

"Thanks!" Scott grinned and started to look around. He went over to talk with a dark haired boy who showed him his sheet. They sat down together and started to chat.

"Woo!" Grace looked up from her page to see Stiles thrusting his fist in the air. He pointed at her and grinned, bounding over.

"Ring that bell!" He held his fist up. Grace rolled her eyes, but she couldn't help but smile and bump her fist against Stiles'. He dropped down into a seat next to her, looking pleased.

"You're awfully happy to be paired with me." Grace observed, resting her chin in her hand.

"Well you're cute and you know about comic books and Star Wars so we'll have something to talk about." He returned, doing his best impression of her voice. It was overly high pitched and girly and Grace winced, cracking him in the shoulder. He whimpered slightly and grasped his upper arm, looking at her in dread and confusion.

"I do NOT sound like that."

"What, you don't sound like a girl?" She raised her fist again and he held his hands up in surrender.

"Okay okay! Just no more punching! God, woman! You hit like a rock."

"You mean _The_ Rock." Grace grinned and blew on her knuckles theatrically. Stiles rolled his eyes at her.

"So, what're we gonna do?"

They sat quiet for a few minutes before Grace raised her hand.

"Mr. Harris, can we make tear gas?"

"No."

"How about napalm?"

"No."

"How about-"

"Something safe, Ms Montgomery!" He snarled. Grace lowered her hand and looked at Stiles.

"You know, for someone that hates his students so much…" Stiles chuckled before leaping to his feet as the bell rung. The rest of the students did much the same, all too eager to escape the jaws of death.

"We could meet after school to work on it." Grace suggested, keeping pace with Stiles as they left the classroom.

"Huh? Oh, yeah sure. Wait, what about the party?"

Grace leaned against the lockers as Stiles began to pull things out and stuff things in.

"Well, we could work on it this weekend. I'm free."

Stiles bobbed his head and closed his locker, support his backpack over one shoulder.

"How about tomorrow? My dad's hours are kinda weird – he's the sheriff, so I'm not sure if he'll be around or not." They started to walk down the hall, Scott joining them on the way to their next class.

"Better than being surrounded by my siblings. So, Saturday, 12? I'll figure something out for food."

"What's going on?" Scott asked, big brown eyes looking between the two of them. Grace grinned and clapped him on the shoulder.

"Just planning our first sexcapade. Here's my number." She stopped and took out a pen, jotting her number down on Stiles' hand in black ink. She capped the pen and grinned as he turned his hand around, attempting to read the number.

"Stiles, scented candles, only vanilla or orange. Roses. Champagne if you can manage it, yeah? And drugs. Lot of drugs. I prefer hallucinogenics. Ta!" She smiled and winked at the two of them before turning heel and going into the drama room. Scott looked confused, but Stiles laughed, even as he turned red. Grace couldn't help but smile as she found her seat.

* * *

After their last class, Grace and Allison trailed out onto the lacrosse field, cuddled up against the cold on the bleachers. Grace couldn't really understand the appeal of lacrosse over some of the other normal high school sports – it had generally just about as much merit as soccer or football, and more clothing than Grace liked on buff high school boys, especially compared to the swim team. If it weren't for Allison wanting to come out to support Scott and Grace wanting to support Allison, the blonde would probably be home right now, _maybe_ working out or more likely eating a can of ice cream and watching Frozen for the 50 billionth time with her little sister. Annie always insisted they sing along together, Grace taking the part of Elsa. Their brother said they sounded like dying cats, but anything that made quiet little Annie happy was just fine in Grace's book.

Next to her, Allison shivered. Grace smiled and shook her head, taking off her leather jacket and tossing it around Allison's body.

"You should really start dressing warmer, Allison." Grace said, patting her on the arm. The brunette gave her a grateful look and snuggled up in the leather.

"How do you not get cold? It's so totally freezing."

"The cold never bothered me anyway!" She sung in response, thrusting her arms out dramatically. Allison giggled, nudging her.

"That was actually pretty good, but now everyone's looking at you, weirdo." Grace grinned, giggling along with Allison.

After a few minutes of low voiced giggling renditions of _Love is an Open Door_, the boys in their red and whites began to make their way out onto the field. Allison and Grace gave Scott a quick wave when they saw him. He got a happy but confused look on his face and waved back, almost like a premature concussion, much to the ire of Coach Finstock. Allison looked concerned and dropped her hand, but Grace only snorted in amusement.

As the coach began to blow his whistle and emphatically gesture the team around the field, Lydia dropped down into a seat next to them, her red hair curly and makeup perfect as always.

"Hello girls," she said, giving them both a smile.

"Hello Newman." Grace said, narrowing her eyes at Lydia. Allison snorted and buried her face in the leather jacket. Lydia rolled her eyes and turned to the field.

"Haha, you're hilarious. Now, who do you think is going to make first line today?" Lydia asked, flipping her hair over a shoulder. Allison perked up.

"I hope Scott does, he really wants it." Grace nodded in agreement.

"Well I hope Scott is smart enough to stay out of Jackson's way." Lydia said coolly. The girls watched Coach Finstock give some sort of inspirational speech (something about cream cheese, she could only imagine), before the whistle blew and the boys made their way to their places. Grace furrowed her brow as practice started. As her eyes attempted to follow the ball around the field, she couldn't help but agree with Lydia. There was some serious loathing Jackson was throwing Scott's way. At one point, Scott managed to grab the ball. After a few moments of confusion, he took off down the field. He didn't get very far, however. She winced as the poor black haired boy was knocked heavily to the ground by the team captain. Grace could almost hear the withering smirk Jackson was sure to send his way.

"I hope he's okay." Allison said, worried. Grace squeezed her shoulder comfortingly, and Allison gave her a wan smile.

"I'm sure he's fine, Allison. He's already back on his feet, look." Allison looked a little relieved, while Lydia on the other hand looked entirely too pleased with her boyfriend.

They continued to watch the game, at the edge of their seats like everyone else. Scott scored, Jackson scored. Scott tackled, Jackson tackled. It was as if the entire team didn't even exist for the duration of their posturing.

In the final play of the practice, Jackson and Scott were paired up against each other again. The second the whistle blew, Scott was off and running with the ball, leaving Jackson far behind. Allison was bouncing in her seat, her hand clenched around Grace's. To their surprise, Scott easily navigated the field, dancing around the opposing players with surprising grace for someone in so much padding. As he came crashing towards the goal, the remaining players formed a defensive line in front of him. Grace waited for the bone breaking impact but it never came. Instead, Scott back flipped over the line easy as breathing and perfectly stuck the landing. With a flick, he sent the ball careening into the net. Grace's jaw dropped open in shock as she stood up to cheer with Allison – what other amazing talents were Scott McCall hiding from the world? But as shocked as the rest of the field seemed, no one looked more confused than Scott himself. He looked around, as if trying to figure out what exactly had happened. The coach came over and started yelling, but after a few moments and choice words, a big grin spread across his face. He clapped Scott on the shoulder and the field erupted into more cheering – he had made first line. Allison was glowing, and even Lydia looked impressed.

Looking around the field, Grace could see Jackson scowling. She was surprised by that – he was the typical picture of a vulnerable, puffed up boy attempting to be an alpha male. She wasn't surprised that his feelings were hurt by someone with more ability than he. However, there were two more people who looked unhappy with the turn out. Across the field, a ruggedly handsome tall man with dark hair and what looked like a permanent scowl was surveying the scene, his hands tucked in his black leather jacket. The last was a completely unexpected surprise.

Stiles. He was still stuck to the bench unlike everyone else. No, if anything he looked worried. Not angry, not jealous, not bitter. Worried. Grace looked from Stiles' distressed face, to Scott who was being congratulated by his new teammates on the field. He looked ecstatic and not the least bit worried. So why was Stiles? By all accounts, he should have been happy for his friend. So why..?

"Grace? Hey Grace?" The blonde jumped as she felt a hand on her shoulder. Allison gave her a slight smile.

"Sorry, I guess you didn't hear me. Are we gonna go now? We don't have a lot of time before the party." She asked, handing back the leather jacket. Lydia looked up inquisitively from where she was oogling her boyfriend.

"The party? Where are you two going?"

The three girls started to file off the lacrosse field. Grace shrugged her leather jacket back on, attempting to not crack anyone in the face as she shoved her arms in the appropriate holes.

"Allison wanted me to help pick her out something to wear for the party." At the mention of clothing, Lydia perked up, before eying Grace dubiously.

"Really, Allison? You want Punk Rock Barbie to help you?"

"Hey now, bitch! It's Punk Rock Ho, thank you." Lydia rolled her eyes and flipped her hair.

"Well. Be that as it may, I cannot trust Allison's fashion future to your hands, Grace. I'm coming along." Lydia slung her large purse over her arm and began to strut off. Allison blinked in confusion.

"Did she just..?"

"I think she did. Oh well. Walk this way." Grace began to mimic Lydia's strut in the most ridiculous way possible as they left the field, Allison following behind, unable to hide her giggles behind her hands.

* * *

"What about this one?" Grace lifted her head from her laptop and furrowed her brow. Allison had on a short yellow dress that flared out at the waist. Grace wrinkled her nose and looked at Lydia, who shook her head. Grace gave her the thumbs down.

"Sorry, empress says no." Lydia grinned and ruffled her hair a little bit, tipping her head in thought.

"I would make an excellent empress."

Grace rolled her eyes and got up, walking over to Allison's closet.

"You'd be terrifying, you mean. How about…this?" Grace pulled out a simple white button shirt, dark pants, and some cute low boots with heels. Lydia tipped her head this way and that before quirking her lips approvingly and tossing over some gold jewelry to complete the ensemble. Allison took the clothes and left the room to go change.

"You surprise me. I was assuming it would all be flannel and leather." Lydia shuddered at the thought. Grace grinned and bowed from where she was lying on the bed.

"Why thank you, your majesty."

Somehow along the way to Allison's house – after a quick stop at Grace's to pick up her own outfit - Lydia had managed to rope the blonde into helping set up, even though she had had full intentions to go for a run before hand and scout the area where the body had been found. Not that she told Lydia that. Allison had managed to worm her way out if it by saying that her mother wanted her to have dinner first and Grace couldn't help but admire her quick thinking. The strawberry blonde had simply overwhelmed the Slayer – not an easy feat.

"Aren't you going to change, Grace, or are you going to keep dressing like a transient?" Lydia asked, rummaging through Grace's clothing. She picked up a Nirvana t-shirt and discarded it for a shiny silver tank top. Grace rolled her eyes at Lydia and stuck out her tongue.

"Get off my back, fashion mom." She answered, before returning her attention to her laptop. There was very little about Derek Hale on the internet – he didn't have a Facebook, a Twitter, or even a Myspace. All she could find on the internet was something about a fire that happened a few years ago. His family had been trapped inside and from what she could tell, Derek was the only living member. Grace couldn't help but feel sorry for this guy, and she couldn't imagine what it would be like to lose your whole family.

She tried to find pictures of him, but the few she could dredge up had a weird lens flare around the eyes and she couldn't even see his face. She could tell he was dark haired and tall, but that was about it.

Grace huffed in frustration, closing her laptop as Allison came back into the room. She fiddled with her hair for a minute, but Lydia took over by sitting her down at the desk and starting to brush it. The redhead raised both her eyebrows at Grace.

"Well? Go on. Impress me again." She carelessly waved a hand at the pile of clothes now decorating Allison's bed. Grace rolled her eyes and sighed, quickly wiggling out of her clothes. She grabbed up a shiny off the shoulder pink top, a leather skirt, and a pair of low black boots. She kneeled in front of Lydia and held them up as if to a capricious deity.  
"Oh my queen, I am not worthy. Please gaze upon these offerings and tell me what the fuck you think." Lydia snorted and made a humming sound under her breath.

"Acceptable, go on." Grace bobbed her head, bowing every time she took a step away. Allison giggled as Grace tugged on her party clothes. She undid her ponytail to allow her own natural curls to bounce around. Lydia ruffled them before forcibly sitting Grace down and examining her nails, giving her a disapproving glare.

"Your nails are absolutely atrocious," she said, pointing to Grace's hand. The nails were all short and some of them were a bit jagged and cracked. Grace just shrugged.

"Occupational hazard."

"Are you a wood chipper in your off hours?" Lydia glared and began to file them down. Grace grinned.

"Aren't you too young to have tattoos?" Allison asked, redirecting the conversation while she cleaned up the cotton and denim carnage from her bed.

"Well, my dad let me get the arrow on my hand and the one on my arm."

"What about the rose on your leg?" Lydia asked, painting Grace's nails a royal blue. Grace grinned cheekily.

"I always make sure to wear something long enough to hide it. He still hasn't found out."

Allison smiled and hung up a couple of her dresses.

"What about that scar?" The brunette asked, sitting on the edge of the bed near the girls. Grace's smile faded as her fingers wandered to her side. A long white scar decorated her right side, trailing at a sharp angle onto her back. Grace winced as she remembered the incident that had put it there.

"Just an accident." Allison smiled and dropped the subject.

The girls looked up as they heard a door open and close downstairs. Allison suddenly bounced to her feet, nibbling on her bottom lip.

"Oh, I think my parents are home. Do you guys…want to meet them?" Allison tried to sound chipper, but looked nervous instead. Grace patted her on the shoulder reassuringly.

"Sure, we've got time before we need to go set up, right Your Majesty?" Grace bumped Lydia with her elbow. Lydia just rolled her eyes.

"We maybe have a minute."

Grace looked to Allison and lifted her nose, waving imperiously at the brunette.

"You heard Lydia Martin, First of her Name, Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Protector of the Realm, Slayer of Terrible Ensembles and Lady of the Short Skirts. We have but a minute to meet with your parents, pleb, so you had best get on with it." Allison laughed and even Lydia couldn't help but crack a smile even as she rolled her eyes. The girls gathered up their things and went downstairs, Allison leading the way.

"Mom? Dad?"

"We're in the kitchen, dear!"

The three girls trailed into the kitchen. Everything was utterly immaculate and clean – almost too clean. There was a faint smell of lemon in the air, not a trace of dust nor a thing out of place and everything gleamed like furniture pearly whites. Grace liked a little bit of clutter, but this place almost didn't feel lived in. Sure they had just moved in but Allison's room was cluttered and messy and she had barely unpacked yet. Grace felt right at home in there. In here, she felt too nervous to even touch the marble countertops that almost showed her reflection.

When they stepped into the kitchen, Mr. Argent was sitting at the table reading the paper while Mrs. Argent was carving up fruit. She held the knife almost defensively as the girls walked into the room. Allison cleared her throat.

"This is Lydia and Grace. They've been helping me pick out an outfit for the party tonight. They've both been really nice." Allison gestured to the two of them with a nervous smile.

"Chris Argent." Mr. Argent stood from the table and offered his hand. Grace managed a confident smile and a firm handshake.

"Grace Montgomery. It's nice to meet you, Mr. Argent." He seemed friendly enough, but there was a vaguely chilly tone to his blue eyes and perfectly white teeth, like he was sizing her up. Grace did her best to smile at him.

"Victoria Argent. Pleasure to meet you, girls." The knife landed on the cutting board with a heavy thud, cutting through the fruit like butter. Grace and Lydia glanced at each other.

"Watermelon?" She asked, her voice too sweet. Her eyes were icy blue and cold. Grace and Lydia shook their heads, and the redhead took this opportunity to leave. A theatrical check of her watch and Lydia was hustling Grace would the door.

"It was nice to meet you Mr. Argent, Mrs. Argent, but Grace and I need to get going to set up." Lydia flashed a full set of white teeth. The blonde gave Allison a quick hug and promise to see her soon before she was shunted into Lydia's fancy car.

"That was bracing." Grace said, letting out a long sigh as Lydia pulled out of the driveway. They shared a look before speeding off towards Lydia's house.

"So did you invite anyone?" Lydia asked, taking turns a little too quickly for Grace's comfort. The blonde gripped the side of the door as inconspicuously as possible.

"Yeah, Stiles Stilinski." Lydia tipped her head, pursing her lips as she thought.

"Who?"

"Umm...Scott's best friend?" Lydia gave her a long look before shaking her head, her red curls bouncing everywhere. Grace rolled her eyes.

"Well, he'll be there so maybe seeing him will job your memory."

"I don't really care that much-"

"I know."

"But if he's your plus one…" Lydia wiggled her fingers on the steering wheel in an _'oh well'_ sort of way. They drove for a few more minutes before pulling up outside a massive two story house. There were no other cars in the driveway and unless Lydia had a Batman thing going on, her parents were probably going to be conveniently out for the evening.

"Is he cool?" She asked, closing the door and beginning to unload some of the boxes. Grace thought about him – stammering, awkward, cutey comic nerd Stiles – and grinned.

"The coolest."

Lydia rolled her eyes in disbelief.

"Get the other boxes. I can't pick them all up."

"What makes you think I can?"

Lydia gave her no response, carrying a single box tucked under her arm as she sashayed into the house. Grace rolled her eyes. She waited until Lydia was clearly out of sight before hefting the box filled with liquor bottles onto a shoulder, tucking the last two full of party decorations under her other arm. To her, they felt feather light, easier than hefting up her siblings and putting them both on a shoulder. She hurried inside and set the boxes down near the pool once she found it before Lydia could get a glimpse of her weirdo strength.

"Oh, hey. You've got them. Good. Well, the alcohol goes on that table over there, and make sure you hang all the lights in a sort of…scooping way." Lydia waved her finger in a semi circle. Grace gave her a mock salute.

"Aye aye captain. Wait, what are you going to do?" She asked as Jackson walked into the room, smelling of hair care products and cologne.

Lydia smirked and fluffed her hair. "I need to go get ready."

"Uh-huh. And that would have nothing to do with your boyfriend suddenly appearing, would it?"

Lydia smiled and wrapped her arm around Jackson's waist.

"Wait, I don't want to know. Just for the record, this isn't really me _helping_ so much as me doing _everything_."  
"Noted!" Grabbing his hand, Lydia led her boyfriend upstairs. Grace rolled her eyes and made her way over to the sound station. She plugged her iPod in, figuring that if Lydia was going to condemn her to setting up most of the decorations, the very least the redhead could do in return would be to suffer through some AC/DC and The Rolling Stones while she did the horizontal cha-cha upstairs.  
"You got to mix it child, you got to fix it, but love. It's a bitch, alright!" Her rousing air guitar solo was interrupted by the sound of a clearing throat, which had Grace whirling around with a blush. She saw the boy from Chemistry class, Scott's project partner, standing there with a box and a funny expression on his face.

"Oh. Hey."

"Hey." He paused for a moment, looking around.

"They're upstairs aren't they?"

Grace grinned and bounded over, taking the cardboard box from him. Inside, she saw a bunch of sound equipment, which she dropped off by the radio.

"Yep, he's up there fixing her plumbing. I'm Grace. You're on the lacrosse team, right?" The boy shuddered at the thought but took her hand anyway and shook it.

"Danny, and yeah." Grace smiled and looked him over in a clearly admiring way. He chuckled.

"So you're cute."

"Also very gay."

"Dammit." She let out an overly dramatic sigh, pressing the back of her hand to her forehead as she faux-swooned. "I always have the worst luck with men." Danny rolled his eyes and dropped down next to the stereo. He began to set up the sound equipment as Grace strung up the fairy lights in lower scallops just to spite Lydia.

"So, she left you down here to do all the work?"

"That's why I'm hanging these low and that's why I picked out the ugly yellow streamers instead of those nice purple ribbons. She'll never have me set up for her again."  
"Smart. I like that. If only you had a penis."

"If only _you_ liked ladies."

They chatted idly as they finished up most of the decorating before wandering into the kitchen for a drink. Grace mixed up her new gay friend a Manhattan before scouring Lydia's pantry. She crouched on the counters in a way that would probably have the red head steaming and yelling about how expensive the marble was and '_Ohmigod if you knock down that juicer, I will kill you'_.

"What are you looking for?" Danny asked, taking a long sip from his cup. "This is good."

"Thanks. And I'm looking for…this!" Grace presented the box of green Jello with a triumphant flair.

"The party doesn't start til nine-ish. I think I've got time to make some shots. Want to help me?"

Danny grinned, setting down his glass on the kitchen counter.

"Where did you learn all this stuff?"

"My dad used to be a bartender in his college days so he's got some old books around the house, and I've just picked some stuff up along my party way. People tend to want you around more if you can mix some cocktails. I make a mean Mai Tai." She shrugged, pouring a gratuitous amount of vodka into a bowl and handing Danny a spoon. "And I figure since it's pretty lucrative, it might be something I can do when I get old enough." Danny let out a low whistle as he mixed the Jello and apple vodka in a bowl.

"Might have to take you up on the Mai Tai sometime."  
"You're on."

There was a very loud scream of frustration from the other room, causing Grace to grin. She sucked down part of Danny's Manhattan, and then hopped off the kitchen counter where she was perched.

"Time to face the Martin music."

* * *

The streamer situation had been sorted out fairly quickly. Lydia had commanded Grace to take them down and wrap some things in silky purple ribbon, though as the blonde predicted, it seemed that she wouldn't be doing any party set up for Lydia anytime soon. The boys took care of the rest of the heavy lifting, Lydia went upstairs to _actually_ get ready, and Grace stood around making Jello shots and drinking Rum and Coke. By the time the music started booming and the party started up she had a pleasant buzz already going. She danced for a little while, and chatted with some people. Some of them – mostly the boys- seemed pretty eager to meet one of the new girls. While she waited for Allison and Scott to show up, not to mention Stiles, she and Danny rolled a few joints on Lydia's coffee table. Some of them got passed out, but they kept a couple for their own use.

"So, you're really too nice to be Jackson's friend, you know." She said, leaning heavily into the arm of the couch and taking a long drag.

"He needs someone that isn't an asshole around." Grace giggled and shook her head.

"You're a saint, Danny boy." He grinned and leaned back into the couch. Grace took another long puff before spotting Scott and Allison standing by the pool. Grace hopped to her feet and hurried over.

"Allison, Scott! Hey! You two are looking adorable. About time you got together." Scott furrowed his brow in confusion while Allison smiled and blushed.

"I just asked her out."

"I know, and you've been fawning over her all week, lameass. Took you long enough. Congratulations on First Line by the way. Wish I had some of those moves, ow!" Scott rolled his eyes and smiled. Allison just giggled, pushing Grace in the shoulder.

"So no Stiles yet?" The brunette asked, leaning against Scott. He looked all too happy to wrap his arm around her shoulders, beaming like a fool. Grace shook her head.

"Negatory. No sighting of Big Awkward yet, over." They both snorted. Grace watched Scott rub his thumb gently over Allison's shoulder, the smiled.

"Hey, Scott. Go top me off? Rum and Coke, if you don't mind. More rum than coke." She wiggled her cup at him, which he smiled and took.

"And get Allison something too. She seems kinda straight laced and lame, though. Might just wanna go with soda." Scott nodded and began to make his way into the crowd, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible. It didn't look like it was getting him anywhere. Grace grinned and shook her head at the boy before taking another long puff. She offered it up to Allison, but the brunette shook her head.

"You're smashed, aren't you?" Grace let out an unladylike snort.

"Oh please, Allison. You'll know I'm smashed when I'm dancing on a table without a shirt on singing a Disney song way off key. _I can show you the woooorrrllldd- _ow!" Allison shoved her playfully backwards, cutting off her caterwauling.

"Oh my god you're awful. Do you even have an off switch?"  
"You adore me. So how's the date going?" Allison blushed and tucked some hair behind her ear, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"He's really really sweet. I like him a lot." Grace bit her lip and let out an obnoxious cooing noise. Allison blushed and rolled her eyes.

"Aww, that's great." Scott made his reappearance, handing both of them a cup. Grace gave the cup a long look, gave him a long look (which made Scott look nervous) before taking a sip. She smacked her lips together a few times before nodding.

"Alright, the boy can make a mean Rum and Coke. He's acceptable. Go about your business, kids. Go dance, have fun. Move along." She waved her hand imperiously. They both smiled and made their way onto the dance floor. Grace watched them go with a smile on her face before bringing the cup up to her lips. However, she spotted someone across the way that made her stop. It was the man from before, the one with the dark hair and the leather jacket on the lacrosse field. He was still scowling and staring straight at her. She stared right back and as if he took that as an opening, he marched across the party towards her. Grace sighed and downed the rest of her cup.

"You know Scott McCall." He growled, not even bothering to pose it as a question. Grace raised her eyebrow at him.  
"Yes, I am aware of his existence. I even speak to him on occasion."

"I need to talk to him. Where is he?" He snapped, bearing down on her. Grace blinked in surprise and then she frowned. She shifted her weight to a hip and crossed her arms, closing her stance.

"Why?" She asked, looking up at him without a hint of being cowed. He blinked and looked at her with an expression almost akin to respect.

"That's none of your business. Now where is he?" Grace let out a snort and tossed her hair in a way reminiscent of the red head who was currently making out with her boyfriend by the pool.

"I'm sorry, but I don't give out friend's information to people how look like drug dealing homicide suspects. Now fuck off before I have to make you fuck off." He rolled his eyes, the first show of emotion other than unhappiness.

"I'm here to help him." It was Grace's turn to roll her eyes now.

"Well if you're so familiar, why don't you just call him?" He said nothing. "That's what I thought. So seriously dude, beat it." He stared at her for a long moment before turning heel and walking off, getting lost in the crowd of dancers. Grace's shoulders dropped and she realized she had been inching into a combat stance the whole time, her hackles raised by the intimidating nature of that guy. She pulled her foot forwards and tried to relax but now she felt uneasy, like something bad was just going to jump out at her at any moment.

"Hey Grace!" She felt a hand on her shoulder and without thinking, grabbed the wrist and spun the person in front of her, twisting their arm behind their back. Stiles groaned and turned his head to look at her.

"Sorry for being late?" Grace blinked and turned bright red.

"Oh shit, sorry Stiles. You freaked me out!" She let him go, apologizing profusely. He waved his hand in the air, cracking his shoulder as he straightened. He scratched the back of his neck a little awkwardly.

"It's cool. Ow, that hurt. I'm terrified of you now, if that's what you were going for. Remind me to never to sneak up on you again." Grace nodded in agreement, blushing from the roots of her hair all the way down to her neck.

"Noted. Do you…?" She offered up the rest of her joint. Stiles blinked a few times before taking it, holding it strangely between his thumb and forefinger.

"Not a joint guy?" She asked, taking a long sip of her drink. Stiles scoffed at her, tossing his head back dramatically.

"Please, I'm totally the joint guy." He took a long puff, almost immediately devolving into a coughing fit. Grace bit down on her lip to keep from laughing and held out her drink. He downed part of it and breathed out heavily, handing her back the joint. She flicked it off somewhere, now all used up.

"T-that's some uh, ahem, good stuff." He let out another few coughs, and Grace patted him on the back.

"Suck it up, Stilinski. Be a man." He glared at her playfully, shoving her hand off.

"Bite me…wait, what's your last name again?"

"Montgomery."  
"Bite me Montgomery." He pointed a finger at her. She gave it a look, then him a look, and lifted her eyebrows. He blushed and withdrew the hand, running his fingers through his short cropped hair.

"Yeahhh. Do you wanna like, dance or something?" Grace brightened and grabbed his arm.

"Yeah, you bet. Let's go spy on Allison and Scott." He let her lead him onto the floor, coming to rest where they could get a good view of the happy couple. They both looked awkward and delighted with their big beaming smiles. Allison had her arms around Scott's neck and he looked like he was going to combust from joy. Grace smiled with happiness for her new friends, but when she looked at Stiles, she saw a pained look on his face. She followed his line of sight and saw Lydia and Jackson against a pillar, hands and mouths all over each other. She glanced between Stiles and Lydia, and a lightbulb went on in her brain.

"Oh, I get it. You're in love with Lydia." Stiles let out a hacking noise, looking at her in alarm.

"W-what? No, no way! I'm so not in love with-" Grace gave him a pursed her lips and lifted an eyebrow at him and his shoulders slumped. "Is it that obvious?"

The blonde nodded, polishing off her drink and tossing the cup with the ice still in somewhere into the fray. Somewhere, a cat was probably yowling to the sound of broken glass.

"Unless you're in love with Jackson, it's about as obvious as the flasher in Observe and Report." Stiles let out a snort, taking his eyes away from the couple. Grace spun them around to his back was to them and smiled.

"Just please, don't start flashing naked women in the mall."

"I'll drink to that." He plucked a drink off of the nearby drink table and took a long sip before gesturing behind him with the cup at Scott and Allison.

"So they're, ah, getting along well." Stiles said, swaying to the music and probably also from the alcohol. Grace nodded in agreement, shaking her hips in time with the beat. She closed her eyes and started to sway, humming along.

"So, did Scott seem like, weird to you or anything? Did he seem like he was doing okay?" Grace opened her eyes and looked at him suspiciously. She tilted her head at him.

"He seemed kinda nervous but that's probably because of Allison. Why?"

"Just ah, wanted to see how my buddy was doing on a date with the girl of his dreams, you know?"

Grace made a noncommittal noise as an answer and peered at him. Stiles seemed like he was trying to keep his poker face in check, but there was some worry going on behind there that she didn't understand.

"There was someone looking for him earlier. Black leather jacket, cranky face, all that." Stiles stopped his swaying almost immediately and a look of real panic crossed his face, one that Grace wasn't quite prepared for.

"What did he want?" Stiles asked, leaning in closer and locking his eyes on her. He seemed desperate. Grace shrugged.

"Just wanted to talk to Scott. He didn't say what he wanted and he looks like a total serial killer so I told him to fuck off. Why?"

Stiles let out a slight nervous laugh and shook his head. "No reas-" He stopped and handed Grace his drink, quite suddenly leaving her in the middle of the dance floor. She blinked, looked down at the cups, handed them to someone else, and then followed him.

When she caught up to him, she saw Stiles firmly grasp Scott on the shoulder. Scott looked like shit, he was sweating profusely and barely seemed to be able to keep upright.

"Yo Scott, you good?" All Stiles got for his question, however, was a push as Scott stumbled out the front door.

"What the hell was up with that?" Grace asked, looking up at Stiles, who seemed in full panic mode.

"I um, I dunno. He has asthma, maybe he's having an attack. I should go help him find his inhaler." And with that, Stiles ran off, leaving her alone once again. Grace snarled and stomped after him.

"Hey, wait up!" She pushed her way through the throng after Stiles, catching up to Allison in the process. As the two girls hurried out onto the front walk, they saw neither of the boys anywhere. Grace was annoyed, but Allison looked heartbroken. Grace reached out and squeezed Allison's shoulder.

"Hey, are you okay?" The brunette turned and gave her a watery smile, shaking her head.

"Everything was going so well, but then he just freaked out and ran off. Do you think I did something?" Allison asked, big brown eyes peering up at Grace. The blonde snorted and shook her head.

"No, it totally isn't you. Stiles said he has asthma, maybe he just needed to leave." Allison nodded slowly, then sighed, leaning into press her face on Grace's shoulder.

"Hey, I'll go get my jacket and we can head to my place, okay? I live pretty nearby and you can stay the night. I'll make some pancakes in the morning, or something. How does that sound?" Allison smiled a little bit and nodded, sitting down on the front steps. As quickly as she could, Grace pushed her way through the people, snagging her leather jacket from the front closet. As she was putting her arm through the left hole, her phone rang. It was Allison. She pressed it to her head and plugged the opposite ear.

"Allison? What's up?"

"Hey, you don't have to leave. I found someone to drive me home." Grace furrowed her brow.

"What? Who?"

"He says he's a friend of Scott's. His name is Derek, I think?" Grace began to make her way back to the driveway, a cold pit of fear beginning to build in her stomach. She had a pretty good idea who Allison was talking about.

"No, Ally, let me walk you to mine, please."

"Look, it's okay Grace. I'll text you when I get home, alright? Goodnight!"

"Wait, Allison!" The line went dead before Grace could get a word in. As quickly as her feet would allow, the Slayer darted through the party goers and busted through the front door. But she was too late. Allison was nowhere in sight, Scott was long gone, and Stiles had followed behind him.

With a snarl, Grace stuck her phone back in her pocket and started walking down the street. She was over the idea of partying, and knew now that despite the fact that Beacon Hills had appeared pretty normal at first, there was definitely something going on with the people she was trying to make friends with. If Allison didn't get home tonight, she was going to hunt down Scott and demand that he told her what was going on.

As she stopped in front of her door to take out her keys, something occurred to her, something that had her smiling all the way up the stairs.

She was going to see Stiles tomorrow for their Chemistry project, and he was going to have a lot of explaining to do.


	3. Splinters

**Hi again! Welcome back to another chapter. This is a little shorter than others and admittedly slightly filler, but I hope you enjoy! Please Review, Favorite, Follow, anything at all! It delights me and makes me want to keep writing!**

**Teen Wolf and Buffy aren't mine, I just love them.**

* * *

'_Note to self, Grace: No wearing shirts with pithy sayings about being caught in front of the sheriff of your new town.'_

Sheriff Stilinski eyed the blonde girl standing on his doorstep. Grace watched him take in her ripped up jeans, her leather biker jacket, and the cut off t-shirt that proclaimed in bright blue and unmistakable letters: _Remember, if we get caught, you're deaf and I don't speak English._

He crossed his arms over his uniform and smiled. It was a nice expression, but still suspicious. He was still pretty handsome for his age, Grace thought, with blue eyes and sandy colored hair. Grace supposed that Stiles probably looked a little more like his mother.

"Can I help you, Ms..?"

"Oh! Montgomery. Grace Montgomery. I go to school with Stiles, we were supposed to work on a Chemistry project today." Grace stuck her hand out and gave his a firm shake. Slowly, the sheriff relaxed and really smiled, standing aside to gesture into the house.

"Go on in. I have to get to work. Stiles is still sleeping but feel free to wake him up. It's about time anyway." Grace smiled and nodded, hefting her backpack over her shoulder.

"Good thing I brought a megaphone and a pack of party poppers." The sheriff chuckled good-naturedly and made his way over to the car in the driveway. Grace closed the door behind her and looked around. The house was nice, if messy. Papers were scattered all over the dining room table – newspaper clippings, pictures, what have you. Nothing looked case sensitive to Grace, though the sheriff had circled a couple newspaper headlines in red. They both looked to be about the murder.

Putting the paper back where she found it, Grace began to make her way upstairs.

"Stilinski! Hey, Stilinski!" She knocked on the first door she came to and upon hearing nothing, poked her head in. It was a bathroom and unless Stiles was sleeping behind the curtain, he probably wasn't in here. She tried the next one, rapping her knuckles against the wood.

"Yo! Stilinski! Get your ass up, we have work to do." She heard a slight groan and what faintly sounded like '_Go away'_ from the other side of the door, so Grace figured this was her best bet. Covering her eyes with a hand, she poked her head in.

"Stiles, if you're watching porn this would be a good time to stop." She didn't get a response, so she slowly cracked her fingers and peered through the gap. She spotted Stiles pretty immediately, curled up into a ball under his covers, muttering in his sleep. His room was an absolute tip. If the floor hadn't been scattered with papers it would probably be fairly normal – lots of blue, lots of posters on the wall, clothes tossed about. But bending down and plucking one of the papers from the floor, Grace found herself reading an article about werewolves of all things. She furrowed her brow and picked up another – wolfsbane. Another – silver. Either Stiles had an obsession with werewolves, or something freaky was going on.

Sighing softly, Grace put the papers down on the desk and walked over to the bed. She dropped down, sitting on the edge and reached over, nudging Stiles repeatedly.

"Hey, Stilinski…Stilinski!...STILES!" He jerked awake with a yelp, peering at her with confusion for a minute before gaping and yanking the covers up to cover his nipples. Grace snorted and rolled her eyes.

"W-what the hell?! Why are you in my room?!" He asked, scrambling away and looking her with confusion. He blinked, then leaned in conspiratorially, brown eyes wide. He flicked his tongue over his lips.

"Am I dreaming?"

Grace laughed and pushed him before standing up, tossing her jacket over his desk chair.

"No, dingus. We had a Chemistry project to do. I brought food." She hefted the large white and red paper bag she had been carrying, sending the smell of fast food wafting around the room. Stiles sleepily reached for it, but she tugged it out of his reach.

"Clothes first, food after. I don't need to see morning treating you so kindly." The blonde laughed as Stiles yelped again and looked down. He found nothing in particular looking back at him and glared at her as she left the room.

She spent a couple minutes in the hall playing with her phone while she listened to Stiles thump around in the room. Just as she was getting to another level in Reaper, he banged the door open, clad in a pair of jeans and a gray t-shirt with a House Stark emblem on the front. Grace scoffed.

"Oh please, Targaryen all the way, bitches. Three-headed dragon for life." Stiles' jaw flapped for a moment before he shook his head, letting her back into the bedroom.

"I don't think I have the patience to talk about your poor life choices. Food." Stiles sat down on his bed and smiled, sniffing deeply from the bag that she handed him.

"I figured burgers and fries would be a good bet." She said, sitting cross legged at the end of the bed and digging into her own bag. Stiles nodded eagerly and began to stuff his face with curly fries.

"Swo wha' do foo think fwe shoul' do?" He asked, munching loudly and for all appearances happily. Grace's brow wrinkled as she puzzled out what he had said.

"Oh. Well I was thinking water into wine, but I don't think Harris would like that. And then I thought we could blow something up but I think that would get us in trouble." Grace bit her lip as Stiles chuckled, forcefully swallowing his mouthful of fries. He hacked a little bit but recovered before she had to pound on his back.

"We could make fake snot." He suggested before taking a monstrous bite of his burger. Grace smiled and nodded.

"And gross out all the girly girls." They grinned at each other, partners in crime for just a moment, before Grace cleared her throat.

"So about the party…?" Was it just her imagination or did Stiles suddenly get very uncomfortable?

"Y-yeah?" He tried to hide the nervous twinge in his voice by taking another burger bite and leaning against the bedroom wall.

"What the hell was all that? Is Scott alright?" She asked, leaning back against the footboard and crossing her arms. Stiles bobbed his head.

"Oh, oh yeah he's fine. He just had an attack."

"Asthma?"

"Yeah! He, uh, couldn't find his inhaler so I said I'd go help him look."

"And ditch me at the party."

"Yeah! What?" Stiles coughed as Grace raised an eyebrow at him testily. He sighed and tossed away what little remained of his meal.

"Sorry about that. The whole 'leaving the party' thing." He said, looking genuinely contrite. Grace couldn't help but smile just a little bit.

"Hey it's cool. It's not like we were on a date or anything. You can make it up to me sometime. It's Allison and Scott I'm worried about." Stiles dipped his head and nodded, grimacing a little bit.

"Allison's going back and forth about being mad and being upset. She's already texted me like…a billion times. He's going to have to do some groveling for that fiasco to be made up." Stiles chuckled and shook his head, leaning into the headboard.

"Won't be a problem." Grace laughed slightly and bobbed her head, tossing some curly fries into her mouth.

"Oh yeah. I've never seen bigger moon eyes." They sat in comfortable silence for a few moments, before Stiles perked up, frowning at her.

"House Targaryen? Really?"

Grace rolled her eyes at him. "Yes, House T. Dany is a bad ass bitch, haven't you heard?" Stiles huffed and leaned in, putting his elbows on his knees.

"But like, the Starks." He said, waving his hands in the air spastically. "Winterfell is badass-"

"_Was_ badass-"

"Okay yeah _was. _And the Starks are survivors."

Grace scoffed. "Funny for a house with nearly everyone dead."

What followed for the next few hours was one of the stranger and nerdier conversations of Grace's life. She was used to debating the merits of television show characters with her father, but once they branched into Batman, Superman, and how many horror movies they'd seen and if they were any good, Grace realized she was a little out of her depth. She didn't get a lot of time to sit down and read comics or watch movies that might freak her little siblings out, so when Stiles went into a stream of praise for The Wolfman, Grace had to stop him.

"Uh, sorry to burst your nerdy bubble Stilinski, but I've never seen that." Stiles looked at her, mouth agape.

"You've NEVER seen The Wolfman? How about Nosferatu? The Mummy? Frankenstein? Night of the Living Dead? Dracula?!" He asked, gesturing wildly in the air. Grace perked up.

"Oh_ that _I've seen. Time and time again." She said, trailing off and shaking her head.

Stiles groaned dramatically, dropping his face into his hand. "This is so not okay."

"What do you propose we do about my apparently appalling lack of classic monster movie experience then, Stilinski?" She asked, crossing her arms and eyeing him.

Stiles lifted his face up and rolled his eyes before grabbing a piece of paper and writing things down. "You free on Friday?" Grace nodded. Stiles pointed at her almost violently with the pen.

"Good. You, here, 7 o clock. We'll start educating you. At least one of my friends needs to know about this stuff." He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as Grace giggled and saluted him.

"Aye aye Captain. Wait, friends?" She asked, tipping her head.

Stiles nodded at her slowly. "Yeah. You don't look at me like I'm crazy or you're confused when I talk about this stuff."

Grace grinned. "I'm a good actress."

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Gee, thanks. I must be a nut. "

"Nuttier than a fruitcake."

Stiles frowned, furrowing his brow. "You know, that doesn't make a lot of sense. I mean, does a fruitcake have nuts in it? Or is the fruit nut-like?"

Grace shrugged, taking her phone out as it buzzed. As Stiles went into a long vocal reasoning of the origin of that particular saying, Grace scrolled down to the new text from Allison.

'_Hey, are you busy?'_

'_Not really. Just listening to Stiles talk about fruitcake.'_

'_Wait, what? You guys are hanging out? :)' _Grace rolled her eyes and responded.

'_We've got a Chemistry project to do but we got sidetracked and started talking about Batman and monster movies I haven't seen. But I think I'm free. Don't think we're gonna be doing anything productive.'_

'_Do you want to hang out tonight? Maybe sleep over? I could use some company.'_ Grace let out a humming noise in her throat, causing Stiles to stop in his tracks, his arms paused in the air from where they were waving wildly as he was debating the merits and faults of fruitcake and whether or not they were nutty.

"What?"

"It's Allison. She wanted to hang out tonight. And…" Grace quickly typed in a few things in Google before looking up. "Sometimes fruitcakes have nuts."

Stiles dropped his arms, looking a little put out. "Oh. Well but thank you to the internet for taking the mystery out shit." He sighed. Grace chuckled before checking the time. It was about four.

"Wow. That's a geeking out record for yours truly. I should get going." As she hopped up from the bed, Stiles deflated a little bit.

"I'll see you at school?" He asked, trailing after her as she walked down the stairs.

"You bet. And Friday, I'll be here." As they reached the front door, she held her fist up, which he readily bumped with his own. She stepped out into the afternoon sunshine, then turned back to look at him.

"And Stiles?" He paused in the process of closing the front door.

"Might want to check your furry obsession. Ta!" With a quick wave, Grace strode down the walkway, marching to the beat of Stiles' loud sigh.

* * *

When she got back home, no one was around. There was a note on the fridge from her father that proclaimed he was working late but that Annie and Michael were going to be staying at friend's houses. Grace expected as much, considering both of her siblings were about as sociable and precocious as a pod of dolphins, but the last part surprised her.

'_There is a package on your bed that got dropped off while you were out.'_ A package? She hadn't ordered anything. Maybe it was an explosive. Or a weapon. Or something threatening from one of the undead Americans that had found out she was here.

Grabbing a can of Coke out of the fridge, Grace stomped her way upstairs and into her bedroom. It looked exactly as before, save for the large brown box sitting on her purple duvet. She dropped her backpack on the ground and walked over. It was kinda weird, bound with some hemp string in a cross pattern and it appeared to be made of wood. There was a note tucked under the string, which Grace popped open as she sat down on her bed.

It was a small handwritten note in clean, crisp writing.

'_I think this will be helpful to you, and in light of recent developments, please come speak to me at your earliest convenience, Slayer._

_- Deaton.'_

Grace put the note down, her heart pounding. What did a vet know about what she was? How had he even found out? Dr. Deaton apparently was more than he seemed. But he wanted to help her, maybe. And considering all the little weird things slowly coming to light, she figured she could use it.

Slowly, she tugged apart the hemp and lifted the lid to the wooden box. Inside was a large old leather-bound tome with golden details and golden edged pages. In the front, in bold golden letters, was the word _Vampyr._

Unlocking the sides and flipping it open, Grace was greeted with pages upon pages of lore about vampires, demons, creatures she had never imagined. The pictures were gruesome and the language was a slog, but she couldn't help but feel a little bit of awe. Here was what she was, all in these pictures, in these letters. Here was what she fought, what she defended against. She had pieced together some bits on her own after that day, the night she had had gruesome nightmares and woken up changed. But so much of it was hidden from her. She found her calling naturally over time on instinct. It had been instinct that had her kicking and punching when that vampire had jumped her on her way home one night after she had snuck out and gone to a party. It was instinct that had her grabbing a piece of wood – a discarded chair leg - and plunging it straight into his heart. Grace fought with her instinct now and not really any training other than what she picked up and mimicked in movies and videos on the internet.

But there was so much she didn't know, and if Deaton could help her, could teach her, even give her the tiniest bit of knowledge? Well, then she was all ears.

She quickly picked up her phone and sent Allison a quick text.

'_How about you come get me at 8ish at my place? I have some things I have to do first.'_

'_Sure! I'll see you soon.' _ Putting the book back in the box and tucking it under her arm, Grace hurried out of the house, almost running down the street in her haste to realize her destiny.

* * *

The sign on the door said closed, but it was unlocked. The little bell dinged as she pushed the door open, striding into the waiting area. There wasn't anyone behind the desk.

"Dr. Deaton? Hello?" There was a shuffling sound from somewhere else in the building and within a few moments, Deaton revealed himself. He was dressed casually beneath his white coat and looked pleasantly surprised, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Ah, Ms. Montgomery. I was wondering when I would see you next." He smiled and lifted the countertop to the side, allowing her access to the back of the office. She smiled at him a little awkwardly as they came into what looked like an operating room. She set the big box down on the table and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"So, you wanted me to come see you." She asked, glancing around the room.

Deaton nodded slowly, eyeing her. She fidgeted under his gaze, almost feeling as if she was being sized up.

"So, how does a veterinarian know about this stuff?" Grace asked. He smiled slightly and opened the box again, revealing the golden title.

"I'm only a veterinarian part of the time. I knew that a new Slayer would be coming to town soon but I did not know it was you until I did a little research." Grace furrowed her brow and crossed her arms. "You were looking into me?"

Deaton had the grace to smile. "With good reason. Strange things are beginning to happen around here and having an educated Slayer would be wise. How much exactly do you know about yourself, Ms. Montgomery?"

Grace hopped up on the table, sitting and kicking her feet. She watched her combat boots obscure and then reveal the clean white tile. "It's Grace. And not that much. I know my title. I know generally what I'm supposed to do. But no one was ever around to teach me. I had to pick up a lot on my own." Deaton nodded as if he had expected this.

"I do not perhaps have all the knowledge one usually has to train a Slayer, but I know a fair amount, and I can help train you in combat. I am not asking you to trust me, Grace, but I believe that preparing you would be wise not only for the oddities that are now cropping up in our town, but for the future as well. I do not expect you'll be living on Beacon Hills all your life and there is evil around every corner and in every dark alley."

Grace chuckled a little nervously. "That's quite the pep talk you have there." She hopped off the table and nodded.

"Alright, I'm in. So when do we start?" Dr. Deaton smiled at her with surprising warmth and sympathy, and then crooked his finger at her.

"Right now. Come with me, please. Bring the book." Hefting the heavy tome off the table, she followed him through a room filled with kitties – it was hard to resist stopping to pet them – and through another door that led to the basement. It was a fairly large, non-descript room, with some shelves that were mostly empty. If not for the equipment that looked fairly new, Grace would guess that people didn't come down here much.

"For the time being, out in the yard or down here is where I'll be helping you train." He gestured at the wooden post with various appendages, at the weight equipment, at the rack of weapons in the corner. Grace saw a sword on the far wall and perked up, walking over to it. She plucked it from the rack and unsheathed it, letting the fluorescent light play off the patterns in the metal. The hilt was wire wrapped, the pommel a simple golden metal round. It looked old, but well taken care of.

"Hello, beauty."

"For now, we'll stick to the basics of hand to hand and weaponry, I think. I'd like to gauge your natural ability first before we branch out."

Grace nodded, putting the beautiful sword away with some reluctance. "So what ne-" Her sentence was cut off with a yelp as she turned, finding Deaton swinging a quarter staff straight at her head. Grace lifted her arm to block it, ignoring the spike of pain in her forearm as she twisted her arm and spun, wrenching the staff from his grasp and pointing it at him.

Gasping slightly from the pain in her arm, Grace tossed the staff aside and glared at him. "What the hell?!"

Deaton clasped his hands behind his back again, as if that exchange had been completely normal. "You have good reflexes."

Grace huffed slightly, still wary for any sudden projectiles. "Thanks."

He gave her a slight smile, then stepped forwards and gently clasped her arm, causing her to wince.

"But that would have been better sidestepped. You'll have some bruising here tomorrow. It's a wonder the bone isn't broken." Grace flushed slightly and managed an embarrassed smile.

"You _did_ swing pretty hard."

Dr. Deaton smiled and patted her on the shoulder. "We'll start your proper training soon. For now, please." He gestured at the dummy and Grace nodded. Her leather jacket was slung over a spare chair. As Grace cracked her neck and lifted her fists in preparation, Deaton stood beside her, looking her over. It made her uncomfortable to be sized up and judged like she knew he was doing, but she knew she needed this. She needed a teacher.

"Drop your shoulder just a little bit and turn more to the left. Minimize your target. Good." He gave her a quick smile, and then indicated the dummy.

"Begin."

Grace was frozen for a moment, trying to decide what to do. Unbidden, her very first fight came into her head. The night she had killed her first vampire.

It had been a little bit after one in the morning. Grace had been 14 and suffering from nightmares that had been keeping her up all night – gruesome things she didn't want to think about. She had snuck out to go to a party that night that a senior in her school had been holding in an effort to find something to stop the screaming in her dreams. She had left the party pretty buzzed and high, but too much to not notice someone following her. She'd tried to take a shortcut through an alley that would have delivered her almost to her doorstep, but just as she'd stepped into it, she felt a hand on her shoulder spin her around to pin her to the alley wall and a hand clamp over her mouth. She'd reacted blindly, jamming her knee upwards between her attacker's thighs, her right fist cracking as hard as she could into his jaw. The man had stumbled back, clutching his face, and when he looked back up, his monstrous visage had stolen the breath right out her.

His face was twisted, his teeth were massive and jagged, and his bloodshot yellow eyes looked at her with pure hatred and hunger. Grace had never been so terrified in her entire life. He came at her again and she struck out, jamming a fist into his stomach and landing another kick into his shin, but it barely deterred the creature. He slammed into her, pinning her against the ground. As she struggled to keep him from biting down on her with one arm, Grace's other hand searched around for something, anything, and had found something entirely innocuous – an old chair leg. First she cracked him hard with it, causing the leg to splinter, but doing the job. He yowled and rolled, taking her with him. In the split second where she found herself on top before he could pin her again, she screamed and stabbed wildly downwards. The broken chair leg plunged right into his heart and Grace found herself panting and crying in a pool of dust.

Standing in the basement, Grace felt that fear anew, and punched forwards, cracking the dummy hard in the middle pole. A series of blocks splintered a few of the arms and with each hit, Grace felt some of that fear uncoil in her stomach and pour out, empowering her hits. She would never tell anyone, never show _anyone_, but she was afraid and deathly so. Of herself, of what she could do, of what she apparently _had_ to do. And she didn't even know _how_. She knew how to hit hard, how to hunt down a vampire, how to save a life or two, but the idea of doing it all alone with no one to help her was frightening. She could never tell her father or her siblings or any of her friends because Grace would never put them in danger. So she was all alone, up against vampires and cults and demons and god knew what else.

She felt a hand on her shoulder, causing her to start.

"I think that's enough, Grace." She was brought back to the present by Deaton's voice, soft but commanding. Before her were the ruins of a wooden dummy. Grace looked down at her hands and found the skin a little cracked and bloody, splinters sticking out at odd angles. She hadn't even noticed the pain.

Deaton patted her gently on the shoulder before gesturing back up at the stairwell.

"Come on. We'll get those splinters out before you go."

Feeling dazed and vaguely afraid of something she didn't understand, she followed him up the stairs.

* * *

Grace made her way home, her hands shoved in her pockets and her head hanging. Her headphones were in her ears, but she barely noticed the thudding beats. She felt strange, like doing something as simple as punching that dummy had opened up something she had been ignoring for awhile. Remembering her first fight felt like it had happened to someone else, like she had just been watching. Grace had been able to distance herself from that event, to soldier on like nothing happened. She had to, for the sake of her family.

But it was almost as if Deaton knew exactly what he was doing when he had her stop and analyze. When Grace fought, she didn't think. She just let her body lead, her mind going into an empty space. Everything was dull and quiet. When she dropped a vampire, she felt nothing except pleasure with the fact she had lived another night.

But now she felt like her fear was painted in technicolor and she felt painfully awake.

With a sigh, she stopped, dropping down to a bench and resting her head in her hands. Her hair cascaded around her face like a blanket.

'_Just don't think about it right now. Think about anything else. Your mom leaving – no, not that. The last thing I need to think about is her. Stiles. Think about Stiles. He's funny, right? He wants to hang out with you. He's totally into another girl but he wants to hang out. Having friends is nice, right Grace?'_

But even thinking about the fun she had had earlier with her new friend wasn't helping. She just felt guilty. What if she and Stiles got close and became good friends and her destiny got him hurt or even killed? She wouldn't be able to live with herself. What if it happened to Allison? She really liked Allison. Grace didn't think she'd ever met a gentler and kinder person in her entire life and not being able to see that anymore would hurt. Even though she had only known Allison a little over a week now, Grace was already attached. Allison and Stiles were just starting out with their lives, but Grace felt like she herself was already so much older than them. They had potential, and Grace would be fighting on the front lines in a war she would never be able to tell them about.

Grace was drawn from her introspection by a loud honk. She leapt up from the bench to find Allison pulling up in her car. The window rolled down and the brunette pushed open the passenger side door with a concerned expression.

"Hey, is everything okay?" She asked, waiting until Grace had gotten in and buckled before continuing down the road. Grace nodded, managing to wrestle up a smile.

"Yeah, it's just a headache. No big. I need to get back to my place first and get some things together, but then we can go."

Allison gave her a long look like she wanted to ask her more, but she eventually smiled and nodded, relenting. "I already asked my parents and they're fine with it. I think they're thrilled that I'm making new friends so quickly."

Grace chuckled, tucking her headphones out of the way. She looked down at her shirt, her eyes finding a couple of spots of blood on the white fabric – she must have put her bloody hands against it earlier. She pulled her leather jacket a little closer to her body, hoping Allison hadn't seen.

"Maybe I should change, then. I don't think they'd let me back in the house if they saw me like this."

Allison chuckled a little bit and flipped on the radio, seeming to sense the fact that Grace felt off and Grace loved her for it. She managed to collect herself to the sound of Santigold coming in through the speakers.

_I'm fighting when you fall back; I'm shooting arrows at the sky._

Slowly, Grace relaxed, leaning back into the car seat and staring up through the sunroof. The stars whizzed by in little points of light as they drove, Allison singing softly under her breath.

"So what did you and Stiles do?" The brunette eventually asked, gently taking a left turn. Grace looked up and smiled.

"Just, you know. Hung out. Talked about stuff. He chastised me for not seeing as many classic monster movies as he has."

Allison smiled, sending her a sideways glance. Grace picked up on the subtext immediately and rolled her eyes. "No, Allison. I just like talking to him. And he's into Lydia. No sparking here."

Allison furrowed her brow as she pulled into Grace's driveway. "Really?" She turned the car off and both of the girls hopped out, making their way into the house. Grace bobbed her head.

"Oh yeah, big time. Can't blame him though. _I'd _do her silly. Dad! Are you here?"

As Allison laughed a little bit, her father poked his head out of the den, adjusting his glasses as he came out. He looked like he had been preoccupied, but when he saw his smiling daughter and her friend, he looked pleased and fully focused. He extended his hand to Allison and smiled warmly.

"Jason Montgomery. You must be Allison Argent. Grace speaks highly of you."

Allison blushed prettily and shook his hand. "She does?"

Grace's father beamed and playfully nudged his daughter. "Oh yes, and I for one am pleased she has managed to make a friend with someone lacking neck tattoos."

Grace rolled her eyes and started to usher Allison up the stairs. "Okay dad! That's enough! Come on, let's go pack before he whips out the baby pictures." Allison laughed.

"Aw, I bet you were cute as a baby, Grace."

"Don't push it, lady."

* * *

"I don't get it, Allison."

"Don't get what?"

Grace gestured with the hand currently not clasping strands of Allison's dark hair. After packing up a few things from Grace's room and clearing it with her dad, the girls had made their way over to the Argent's. Her parents had been as coolly courteous as before, and Grace had made sure to keep her jacket zipped up until they made it to Allison's bedroom, where they had changed into pajamas and curled up with snacks and popcorn. Grace was sporting a pair of black boy shorts and a cutoff Rolling Stones tee, though Allison was of course cuter in her floral nightie. They'd painted each other's nails, talked about boys for a little bit, and were now snuggled up under the covers, admiring the good looks of Gregory Peck in _Roman Holiday_.

"You haven't said a word about Scott yet." Grace said, twining Allison's pretty dark hair into braids. Allison dipped her head thoughtfully and sighed.

"I'm mad at him, but also not. I should totally hate him. It was a jerk thing to do. He disappeared and abandoned me there."

"But you don't hate him."

Allison shook her head and sighed deeply, leaning into Grace's hands as the blonde plaited her hair into an elaborate braided style. They sat quietly for a few moments, watching the movie, until Allison broke the silence again.

"He was really sweet before everything happened. What do you think I should do?"

Grace shrugged, tying off the end of her hair. "I think you should give him another chance. He's totally into you, it's obvious. And you'll never know if you don't talk to him."

Allison looked at her inquisitively before resting her head on Grace's arm. "You say that like you've had to deal with guys doing stuff like this before."

Grace laughed, shoving a few sour gummi worms into her mouth and rolling her eyes. "Oh, many times. Guys are weird, strange little creatures and we must give them the benefit of the doubt sometimes."

Allison let out an unlady-like snort before she dissolved into giggles, burrowing her face in the blankets. Grace shook her head.

"It wasn't that funny, weirdo." Allison popped her head back up and bit her lip.

"It's just...worms were hanging out of your mouth, and I couldn't help thinking you were kind of the pot calling the kettle black."

Grace rolled her eyes again with fake exasperation, bumping her forehead against Allison's shoulder.

"Shutup."


End file.
